The next instant Gray's net swung; a furious
fluttering came from the green silk folds; Kathleen whipped off the
cover of the jar, and Duane deftly imprisoned the moth.

"Upon my word," he said shakily, "I believe I've got a Tersa Sphinx!--a
sub-tropical fellow whose presence here is mere accident!"

"Oh, if you have!" she breathed softly. She didn't know what a Tersa
Sphinx might be, but if its capture gave him pleasure, that was all she
cared for in the world.

"It _is_ a Tersa!" he almost shouted. "By George! it's a wonder."

Radiant, she bent eagerly above the jar where the strange, slender,
gray-and-brown hawk-moth lay dying. Its recoiling proboscis and its
slim, fawn-coloured legs quivered. The eyes glowed like tiny jewels.

"If we could only keep these little things alive," she sighed; then,
fearful of taking the least iota from his pleasure, added: "but of
course we can't, and for scientific purposes it's all right to let the
lovely little creatures sink into their death-sleep."

A slight haze had appeared over the lake; a sudden cool streak grew in
the air, which very quickly cleared the flower-beds of moths; and the
pretty sub-tropical sphinx was the last specimen of the evening.

In the library Scott pulled out a card-table and Kathleen brought
forceps, strips of oiled paper, pins, setting-blocks, needles, and
oblong glass weights; and together, seated opposite each other, they
removed the delicate-winged contents of the collecting jar.

Kathleen's dainty fingers were very swift and deft with the forceps.
Scott watched her. She picked up the green-and-rose Pandorus, laid it on
its back on a setting-block, affixed and pinned the oiled-paper strips,
drew out the four wings with the setting-needle until they were
symmetrical and the inner margin of the anterior pair was at right
angles with the body.

Then she arranged the legs, uncoiled and set the proboscis, and weighted
the wings with heavy glass strips.

They worked rapidly, happily there together, exchanging views and
opinions; and after a while the brilliant spoils of the evening were all
stretched and ready to dry, ultimately to be placed in plaster-of-Paris
mounts and hermetically sealed under glass covers.

Kathleen went away to cleanse her hands of any taint of cyanide; Scott,
returning from his own ablutions, met her in the hall, and so
miraculously youthful, so fresh and sweet and dainty did she appear
that, in some inexplicable manner, h